


Journey's End

by Ultirex



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Afterlife, M/M, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, Spoilers for Unicron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultirex/pseuds/Ultirex
Summary: A reunion.





	Journey's End

**Author's Note:**

> For Starjack week! Prompt: trust + reverence. 
> 
> I wanted to write something for each day but sadly time has not been on my side. :(

Death is spectacularly unlike what Starscream had anticipated.

He’s rarely entertained the thought of dying. Such confidence comes with being adept at the art of self-preservation and having no intention of letting his drives go unfulfilled. But on the rare occasion where oblivion became preferable to the agony of being crushed under the heel - literal and metaphorical - of those who would love nothing more than to see him break, he had always regarded the concept of an afterlife with nothing short of derision. 

In a world of absolutes there is no room for something as vague as a continued nonexistence. So Starscream doubts his recollection of what should have been his final moments when he finds himself still cognizant enough to do so.

“Try not to overthink it,” comes a voice, one that only affirms that his delusions have begun to warp his reality entirely. 

Wheeljack had been brought back from the cusp of death once only to be felled in what had apparently been an act of selflessness. Even Starscream, stubborn as he has always been in clinging to life, knows that the good fortune of an unlikely survival would not have struck twice.

“You’re doin’ just that, huh? Always the contrarian.” 

The reminder of what he’s lost has the audacity to sound amused. Starscream attempts to find the source of it for a confrontation but his body feels leaden, his senses dull and sluggish. It’s not unlike the sensation of coming online in a frame that’s entirely foreign, of having to forge those neural connections between intent and action. He finds himself repeating those same steps he took during those laborious first moments of his functioning, willing his fingers to bend to his will and his thrusters to ignite with a lick of flame. 

And all of a sudden he’s managed to claw himself out of the haze, to bring some semblance of being into a world that initially seems as lacking in direction has his scattered thoughts. There’s a burgeoning coherency to the landscape as it molds itself into a shape that’s familiar but alien at the same time, and perhaps most striking is the sight of Wheeljack calmly standing amongst the shifting pieces in their awkward nascency. 

He’s an ethereal being that seems to grow more tangible with the world around them, until Starscream is left with no choice but to acknowledge the apparition standing before him. 

“You died,” Starscream says, because there’s no room for eloquence when dealing with an affliction of the mind. 

“Twice,” is Wheeljack’s reply, and he sounds as if he’s smiling beneath his mask. “Guess it’s too bad I didn’t have you there to patch me up this time.”

“I always knew you’d go out doing something stupid,” Starscream says. He’s tempted to reach out and give the vision of Wheeljack a shove when he finds words failing him. But doing so runs the risk of making this a reality, and he can’t tell which truth he would prefer. “Playing the hero. You just had to do the sensible thing and run.”

Wheeljack shrugs. “Someone had to do the right thing. Figured it might as well be someone without much left to lose.”

“Idiot,” Starscream says without any of the malice that he would normally pack into such an insult. “There are plenty of expendable people out there. Don’t act like you’re one of them.”

“Well.” Wheeljack tilts his head as if he’s sizing up Starscream. “Seems like you made a bit of a heroic sacrifice of your own. So I guess that means you’re just as guilty as I am.”

There’s something hopeful in Wheeljack’s gaze that serves as a painful reminder of the trust he’d once placed in Starscream, and Starscream feels uncomfortably transparent beneath the weight of it. He looks away, taking a moment to observe the landscape that has taken shape around them. 

“Cybertron,” Starscream muses as he takes in the sight of the magnificent metropolis. “Back in its golden age. I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to see it like this again.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Wheeljack says. His optics remain locked on Starscream, apparently far less awestruck by the vision of the past they’ve been granted. “You always seemed so confident in your ability to make things happen. Even this.”

This being gilded towers and streets that do not know the struggles of their people - or perhaps they’ve simply been paved over them, and only the occasional crack in the veneer of it all acts as a grim reminder of where they came from. 

It’s the spitting image of Starscream’s most indulgent fantasies, from back before the burden and fallout of leadership alike had stripped him of his faith in such possibilities. 

“Hm.” Starscream can’t bring himself to formulate an argument in his defense. War had left him hardened, and the aftermath had eroded him down to a weary shell of himself. 

“I really did think you could,” Wheeljack says. He’s close all of a sudden, enough so that his door brushes against Starscream’s wing. There’s a certain intimacy to it that’s as unexpected as the revelation that Wheeljack is a palpable presence. “Didn’t always agree with your methods. But y’know, despite everything? I still thought if anyone could make Cybertron flourish again, it’d be you.”

Starscream feels emboldened enough to reach out and lightly trace his fingers along the outline of Wheeljack’s arm. Just as he remembers. “I thought you didn’t trust me anymore.”

Wheeljack doesn’t flinch away from the contact. “Guess a part of me still wanted to. And seein’ what you did, I don’t think my faith was misplaced.”

“All it took was dying, huh,” Starscream says, and with that admission he finally allows himself to be pulled into Wheeljack’s grasp. 

“It’s not all that bad,” Wheeljack murmurs as he rests his head in the crook of Starscream’s neck. “Don’t gotta carry the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore. It’s up to them now.”

Starscream takes a steadying breath. Wheeljack’s musk is familiar, like a piece of home that he was able to bring with him. “Yeah. I think we’ve both earned some rest.”


End file.
